Burn me, Bite me
by Shurikenx
Summary: It was just an accident; one simple easy-to-make accident, which lead to so much sexual tension in the Uchiha household. Sasuke can barely keep his eyes off his older sibling, and Itachi notices. //ItaSasu, Lemon/Lime, Yaoi, Incest//


_A/N: Here's a oneshot I have done recently to submit to another site - I thought I'd add it up here just for your guys to have a read through. Beware, young readers, there's a lemony/limey scene in this - but not a full-on lemon. I can always write a sequel if you want the lemon THAT badly - you bunch of Uchihacest lovers, you. ;D Enjoy!_

- - - -

**Burn me, Bite me.**

- - - -

'Okay then, Sasuke, let's try it again,' Itachi said tediously, bringing a hand up to rub at his temples. His dark eyes appeared dull and weary-looking; and were an obvious result of the day's failed attempts.

Attempts at what, you ask?

Trying to teach Sasuke exactly how to host one of Japan's most treasured traditions; the Tea Ceremony.

It was essential to learn in the Uchiha Clan, especially as it was renowned an honourable talent, and gave the person a sense of degree and pride. Fugaku had been instructed by the clan's elders to teach both his sons the art of the tea ceremony; the sons who were no doubt the most prized, most adored children in the whole of the clan. Especially the oldest son, Itachi – noted for his prodigious talent and (undeniable) beauty. The younger brother Sasuke was skilled of course, as any son of Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha _would_ be – but there was nothing… exceptional about him. Nothing about his personality shone out, and as for his looks, well, he was deemed 'pretty' by the villagers.

Sasuke shifted on his knees, the white yukata he was wearing did little to prevent his knees from being scratched by the tatami mats, and he winced slightly. He tried to wiggle his toes underneath him, tried to get some _blood flow_ into them –

'Sasuke!' Itachi suddenly snapped, slamming his hand down in front of the boy and making him jump; eyes wide. The teacups rattled with the sudden impact. 'Will you _stop_ fidgeting?! You need to keep still during a tea ceremony… for god's sake…' he muttered under his breath, lifting his hand off the floor and reasserting the shaken teacups.

Sasuke blinked, refraining from biting his lip in embarrassment. 'Itachi, I – I want to go and see 'kaasan –' He said timidly, suddenly wanting to be so very far away from his brother, whose attitude seemed to be wavering like an unpredictable, and totally unreliable summer storm.

'Well you _can't_. Not until I've finished with you.'

Sasuke's heat thudded in his chest. That tone of voice; that harsh, condescending voice – why did it make tiny shivers dance up his spine? He should be fearful of _that_ voice – and in a way, he was – but why did he feel more…thrilled at the prospect of being spoken to like that?

In any case, Sasuke knew it wasn't normal. It had _never_ been normal to look, gaze upon his older brother and wish for his long, perfect fingers to be splayed out across his skin – wish for that black hair to be free from the ponytail and loose to play with. It was a terrible feeling of pleasure that resided in his gut, deep down in a part of him that he never even knew _existed_; one that seemed to grow and fester whenever Itachi's eyes flitted across to meet his own at the dinner table. His hands would tighten on his chopsticks to the point where he thought they might snap clean in two – but, luckily, his brother would never notice.

His attention was snapped back to Itachi as two porcelain cups clinked together delicately.

'Try it again,' was the cold instruction, and Sasuke had to swallow hard before complying.

Making sure the sleeves of his yukata were hanging correctly, he gently reached out his right arm and grasped a tiny black pot; making sure to hold it lightly between his fingertips. With his left hand he picked up the tiny bamboo spoon at his side, and scooped up a small amount of dark green powder from the pot. He dropped the powder into the porcelain bowl in front of him.

He glanced up at Itachi, trying to ignore how impossibly dark those eyes above him were, as he tried to see if he had done it correctly. Itachi's eyes gave away no such impression, but he also hadn't told him to stop and redo anything yet…

Okay, he thought to himself, as he checked his sleeves again and reached out for the scalding-hot teapot. This was the trickiest part so far, and the one he had messed up on the most. It was difficult; the teapot was fashioned in a very old style, having a wide base, and an equally wide top. The lid didn't sit too comfortably on the top, and it was always ready to teeter off the edge at any given moment. The actual lip of the teapot was an awkward shape; and the water inside tended to splash out either too far, or dribbled down the outside of the teapot itself; scalding the hands of the person holding it.

Sasuke's hands were already trembling as they grasped around the handle and the thick base. He shifted a little bit on his knees, inching his way closer to the bowl with the powdered tea inside it.

'Stop,' Itachi said suddenly, halting Sasuke's hands by placing his own hand on the boy's thin wrists. The boy flinched as his concentration was suddenly snapped in two by his brother's voice and his… touch. His slender hands jerked around the teapot, causing a splash of boiling water to suddenly run out of the spout and onto Sasuke's left hand, holding the base. He gasped, feeling the burning feeling erupt in a horrible red flash on his skin.

'Aah –I-Itai…' he whimpered, quickly putting the large teapot down on the tatami mats; one hand still being held tightly in Itachi's grip.

'Nisan, my arm – it's – it's, look – it's _burnt_,' He gestured with his free arm up to Itachi, brandishing his lower arm in front of him. A big red welt stood almost proudly on the boy's arm – stretching from wrist to elbow. His white skin was stained crimson.

'…I can see that, Sasuke,' Itachi replied slowly, not letting the wrist in his hand go. He rubbed it gently with his thumb.

'The problem was your wrists, Otouto,' he said, almost a whisper for it was so quiet. The boy's yukata sleeve was pushed up a little, just enough for Itachi to finger the white, embroided edge. 'You must always keep your sleeves down… hide your pretty wrists…yes?' he breathed, his voice so quiet, husky, just _breathing_ those words so close to his sibling, kneeling on the floor with his left arm scorched.

'I…Itachi, my arm…' Sasuke whimpered, trying to weakly get some attention towards his smarting appendage. He was still a little boy after all; only just eleven years old, and in need of compassion from his stoic sibling.

'Ah, yes…' Itachi murmured, letting Sasuke's right wrist go in order to hold the tender left arm. He ran a svelte nail across the scorch mark, not digging in or pressing hard, just barely _scratching_ the marred skin with his painted nail. Sasuke whimpered meekly, squirming on his knees to try and keep the edge of the pain at bay. 'Itachi, t-that _hurts_,' he began, although his words quickly drifted off the nothing.

'Ssh, Sasuke,' the elder replied, continuing to rub his finger across the burn mark, stretching from the delicate blanched wrist, to the slight indentation of the elbow. 'Just try and… be quiet.'

Sasuke's eyes narrowed in confusion. What did Itachi mean? What was he talking about?

But he understood exactly what his brother meant, as he swiped his hot tongue from elbow to wrist in one long, wet lick. Sasuke furiously bit his bottom lip, trying not to whine out in pain, building up in his gut and twisting like a knot.

Itachi licked again at the middle of the burn, sucking the skin between his hot lips, making sure to apply just the right amount of pressure and to not hurt the boy further.

Sasuke knew that this wasn't hurting. Well, it _was_, but in an uncomfortable, annoying kind of way – like a fly buzzing around your face in the heat of summer. There was no raw pain; just a dull thumping ache in his head and body – which, he noticed, was weird – as his _arm_ was meant to ache, not his head.

He watched as Itachi's pink tongue licked across the skin, soothing it with wet licks and gentle sucks, before travelling down towards the palm of his hand. He gazed on in rapture as that hot mouth enveloped his pointer finger, sucking slightly at the tip.

'Itachi…' he breathed, trying to catch his breath that suddenly seemed so short. 'I think…you should…stop.'

Because something about the whole situation didn't feel quite right. Whether it was the cold, and yet smouldering look in his brother's eyes, or the way that tongue was now soothing a part of him that wasn't even injured – Sasuke wasn't sure. He just knew that his brother was acting…different.

And he didn't know if that was a good thing or not.

'N-Nisan,' he stuttered, wriggling on his dead knees; the yukata around his chest suddenly feeling _too tight_. 'S…stop, please?'

Itachi let the solitary finger slide form between his (oh so red) lips, shining with saliva. He was quiet for a moment, holding onto the wet hand and forearm before gently replying: '…why?'

Sasuke bit his lip. 'Because it-it feels… strange. _I_ feel strange – '

'So you want me to stop? Because you 'feel strange'?' He said, dropping Sasuke's arm roughly back to his side.

'N-No, I was – '

'I was only helping you with your burn – and you tell me to _stop_?'

'But I – '

'No. You know what?' He stood up, brushing his hands angrily down his legs. 'I've had enough of trying to teach you this ceremony – you're not learning anything. You can go and play in the _dirt_ for all I care,' he spat, his eyes nearly scarlet with anger that Sasuke just _couldn't_ comprehend.

The boy blinked away the tears in his eyes. 'Aniki…I just – '

But Itachi was already striding off and pulling the shoji screen roughly to one side. It slammed against the wooden frame and rattled slightly. Itachi disappeared out of sight, leaving Sasuke silent in the aftermath of such an outburst. Never had Itachi acted like that before… that was --

The shoji door clanged shut.

In front of Sasuke, in his white yukata with the beautifully embroided edges, sat the two porcelain tea bowls, untouched. The Jasmine-fragranced tea rose in steamy rivulets from the teapot, stretching mindlessly into the air, before vanishing out of sight.

- - - - - xx - - - - -

Itachi headed straight for his bedroom, making sure to shut his own door just as loudly as the last. That boy – that mere _child_ – how on earth could he make him, usually so stoic and collected in his demeanour, loose his composure so quickly?

He collapsed onto the bed, sighing as he fell face first onto the soft mattress.

_Sasuke…_

Gods, that boy was just so… infuriating at times, but so adorable, loving, sweet...

His stomach stirred slightly as he pictured his younger sibling, trying so hard to pour the damn tea correctly; little white fingers splayed out across the teapot, his delicate wrists showing too much as the yukata sleeves fell slightly down his forearm; and that delightful burn that scorched up the perfect skin in a pink welt.

Itachi sighed. He didn't know why he had jumped so readily at the chance to help his little brother… he just _hated_ seeing the boy hurt; and yet, loved it so much at the same time. He frowned into his pillow, burying his face in it. These feelings weren't _right_ – they were frightening, but delightfully so.

He knew he craved to feel Sasuke's skin again – that gorgeous white skin, framed so perfectly in the white dress. The flesh that was tender, sensitive to the touch; especially when burnt a bright lobster pink…

But he'd pushed too far. He'd gotten angry – pushed Sasuke away almost literally – and it made his heart heavy in his chest with every step he took towards that panelled door. He didn't want to have to walk away…

He didn't want to be horrible to such an innocent boy, but it was necessary.

Wasn't it?

- - - - - xx - - - - -

Moonlight flooded through the slatted blinds, lighting the room in bars of sliver light, deeply contrasting with the shadows that lurked in the corners and under the bed.

Sasuke lay perfectly still, trying to calm his breathing as he snuggled deeper under his duvet cover. The futon was small, and he curled up on his side to try and fit more comfortably on it. His heart was pounding beneath his rib cage, so loudly it almost _hurt_… and all because of that dream.

He had fallen into a light sleep – a few hours after the tea-ceremony practice with Itachi had ended… and yet, Itachi himself hadn't left his mind. The dream took place in the tatami room where they had been practicing the ancient art; but it was dark – instead of it being daylight. Itachi had been wearing no clothes; only a black cloak around his shoulders with a strange, emblazoned detail on it that seemed to move and flicker like fire. Sasuke had been wearing nothing – his white skin was translucent in the darkness as Itachi's fingers ghosted over his stomach, leaving hot trails on his flesh as nails scratched over lightly.

'_Please – keep going…nn…'_

There had been noises – yes, many many noises, from both the younger and the older: a whine, whimpers, pleads and whispers – and even odd phrases at times. Things like breathless encouragements and praises as Sasuke's hands stroked Itachi in _exactly the right place_.

_'That's it…Sasuke…perfect – you're so perfect…'_

For some reason, Sasuke found himself waking up from the dream rather quickly. Well, it _seemed_ quickly – for not much had even happened in the dream. If anything, they had only…touched each other.

Sasuke whimpered, clutching the blanket tighter in his white-knuckle grip. This was unbearable – the way Itachi looked at him with such hatred, with such malevolent disgust… he'd rather die than see that look again.

He knew he had to go and apologise for spilling the tea and 'showing his wrists' – even though none of those accidents were really his fault. The fact that the tea had splashed out in overflow was only because of how suddenly Itachi had stopped his hand – and his wrists had only been showing because his sleeves had fallen to one side. Although he could kind of understand why Itachi thought it was such a big deal… to be a host of the Tea Ceremony, it was important to keep your wrists and forearms covered to minimise burns and such, but there was also a deeper, more intimate reason. The Geishas who used to perform the ceremony - Itachi had told him once, sitting on the porch outside the house – were very beautiful, and so, loved to tease their male customers with gentle flirts and means of seduction. Of course, it drove the men crazy – for the Geishas were truly untouchable, and no man was allowed to even lay so much as a finger on her.

Sasuke had nodded; his feet swinging from the porch. Itachi continued to tell him about one of the ways the Geisha would tease the men; one such way was concerning their wrists. The wrists and nape of the neck were parts of the body that were considered truly beautiful – although Sasuke didn't really understand why. Why would anyone find a neck or wrist pretty? Still, the Geishas, when performing tea ceremonies, would sometimes let their kimono sleeves slip slightly, exposing their wrists to their customer as a means of saying 'look at exactly what I have hidden under these clothes. Have a good look but don't touch.'

Now, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with the duvet up to his nose, Sasuke finally realised why Itachi had become so angry.

It was… desire. His childish behaviour and clumsy actions had been giving Itachi mixed messages – messages that would have been seen as innocent, except for Itachi, who would take them in a whole new light. The ways his wrists exposed themselves innocently to Itachi; who knew that that action was originally one of seduction.

He rolled onto his back, sighing at the thoughts and ideas and confused messages that roared through his head like a raging river. He tried to remember the dream. Tried to remember how Itachi was there, leaning above him, breath hitting his skin as he. Just. _Breathed_.

He whined into the blanket, feeling a horrible twisting of desire roll in his belly. He bit the blanket close to his face, forcing it between his teeth to try and muffle any more sounds. Slowly, with one hand hidden under the duvet, Sasuke pushed a hand down his stomach, pushing aside his pyjama top to make way for his feverish fingers.

_This was Itachi's hand._

He tried to focus on how Itachi might feel; cold, hard. His stomach gave a lurch at the idea, and he clenched his teeth tighter onto the blanket's edge.

_These were Itachi's fingers._

But…how would Itachi touch him? Sasuke asked himself, stroking his stomach absentmindedly. His mind soon drifted to Itachi and his painted nails, a deep, dark shade of purple – so dark it was almost black. He imagined how they'd feel; painting their own lines across his chest. Deep, red lines.

He sighed low in his throat, forcing his hand to retract from his flesh that felt _so hot_.

This wasn't right, this _couldn't_ be right. Itachi was his brother – flesh and blood. To think and dream about him in this kind of way…?

But to think that the only reason Itachi actually got angry was because he wanted to have something he simply could never even _touch…_ did that mean that Itachi had had similar dreams too? Did Itachi think about him in that same, longing way?

There was really only one way to find out, Sasuke said to himself as he rolled over onto his side; pushing the duvet to the floor with a gentle thud. He stepped off the mattress and hopped quickly over to his bedroom door, tiny fingers sliding the paper screen to one side, just enough for his lithe body to fit through before he shut it again.

It was almost pitch black in the little corridor; only a small window at the far end allowed the little amount of light through, sending streaks across the floorboards. Tiny particles of dust hovered in the air as he made his way slowly to the door on his right, making sure to keep one hand on the wall beside him. His knuckles gently brushed against the covered plaster, before they reached the wooden frame of his brother's door. The paper screen was firmly shut; denying entry to the young-teen on the outside.

Was it locked? He wouldn't be surprised; Itachi always liked his solitude, his privacy. Sasuke inched his fingers forward, trying to find the seam between the wall and the door, but he couldn't find it. It was too dark to see anything.

Whimpering, Sasuke tried to claw a little at the lacquered paper, like a little kitten trying to get into a warm house. 'Itachi…' he whispered, sinking to his knees with his hands still scratching at the door.

There was no noise from within the room.

'Itachi…'niki…' he sniffed, resting his forehead against the cold wooden frame. Why was Itachi ignoring him? Had he really messed up their tea-ceremony practice _that_ much? Maybe it was because he had spilt that tea – maybe it was because he had told Itachi to stop licking and sucking at his skin…

Maybe.

He scratched again at the securely shut door, wanting to so desperately get in and apologize –

'Sasuke?'

'Itachi! You're awake…!' He whispered hopefully, still on his knees as he pressed an ear to the paper, listening out for the sounds of moving bedcovers or gentle footsteps across a cold wooden floor. Itachi shifted himself out of bed and crept silently towards the door where his sibling sat, crouched on the other side. He could just make out the boy's silhouette through the paper.

'What are you doing up? You're supposed to be in bed asleep by now…'

Sasuke bit his bottom lip. 'I _couldn't_ sleep,' he breathed, his lips so close to the paper that he could almost taste the varnish. He could see the shadow of his brother only faintly through the paper, but he couldn't help but press himself up against the door in an attempt to get close to his aniki.

Itachi, on the other side of the shoji screen, knelt down onto the floor. He could hear the boy's breathing just beside him; hot, damp pants hitting the paper.

'And, why can't you sleep, Sasuke?' He whispered in reply, hearing the boy fidget and shuffle on his knees. There was a little bit of silence, before Sasuke whispered into the dead of the night:

'…I can't stop thinking about you.'

'……'

Itachi didn't move, or say anything in reply. He _couldn't_. Well, what _could_ he say?

Slowly, he reached out a hand and flicked the metal lock keeping the door firmly shut. The latch sprung open, and immediately Sasuke's tiny fingers were fumbling at the seam, pushing the door to one side and crawling through the gap.

He collapsed onto Itachi's lap as the elder remained kneeling on the floor. He fisted his small hands into Itachi's loose sleep shirt as he buried his face in his chest. His dark spiked hair nestled almost perfectly under his sibling's chin.

'I'm sorry aniki…for spilling the tea this morning – I didn't mean to make you angry,' he whispered, rubbing his face onto Itachi's shirt.

Itachi swallowed. 'That's okay Otouto,' he breathed slowly, holding the boy cautiously to chest. 'I didn't… mean to get angry and snap at you like that. It wasn't your fault for spilling it.' He paused, tilting the boy's chin up to face his own. The owlish eyes were dark and watery, threatening to let loose a trickle of tears.

Itachi hated to see Sasuke cry.

'How's the burn?' He asked gently, reaching out to take Sasuke's forearm in his large hands. He cradled it between his fingers, rubbing his thumb carefully over the expanse of red skin.

'It hurts still,' Sasuke replied, watching intently as that thumb trailed up and down his skin…up and down, up and down. ' – but not as much as it did. It's just sore.'

Itachi nodded once, making his loose black hair fall slightly into his vision. He leant forward, still stroking the tender arm with one hand as he placed his other gently into Sasuke's hair. He rubbed his fingers lightly on the boy's scalp, feeling the hair ruche between them.

He pressed his face into Sasuke's neck, breathing in the sweet smell of his skin as he nuzzled the soft hairline.

'I'm sorry, baby-brother,' he whispered, his lips moving gently over the boy's pulse as he spoke. He felt Sasuke tense slightly, and he shivered at the thought of holding something so precious to him – so precious and delicate, like glass that would shatter at the lightest touch.

'I'm sorry for walking out on you… for hurting you…'

'B-but you didn't hurt me,' Sasuke whimpered quietly, feeling Itachi's hair brush against his nose as he leant in to whisper apologies against his neck. His aniki had never acted like this before… 'It was _my _fault, you know, for the tea…'

'I'm not talking about the tea, Sasuke,' came the quick reply. Itachi very slowly lifted his face off of the boy's neck, before resting his lips on the small ear. 'I'm talking about hurting you, haunting you, making you unable to sleep at night…'

His hot breath drifted damply into Sasuke's ear, making a thrill of pleasure trickle from his shoulder blades down his spine. He felt Itachi's lips land on the shell of his ear.

'…hurting you like _this_…'

Itachi deftly swiped his tongue around the edge of Sasuke's ear, dipping his lips just barely inside as he sucked the edge into his mouth; lightly nibbling the shell. It was a horrifically intimate gesture that seemed so out-of-place… and Sasuke could only whine and wriggle in Itachi's lap, feeling the hot muscle lick down his neck and settle just below his earlobe, sucking gently.

'You know,' he whispered, licking at the soft skin of the boy's neck, 'how I've seen you look at me recently…across the dining table…in the corridor…'

Sasuke tensed a little, feeling a horrible dawning of realisation settle in a red blush on his cheeks. Luckily, it was too dark to really see, he hoped.

'Those glances you give me, like you can't keep your eyes off me…'

He tightened his hands into Itachi's shirt as the large hand in his hair stroked gently, making him lean into that warm gesture that gave him so much (undeniable) comfort.

'…glances and looks full of _desire_,' Itachi smiled, as he placed a final soft kiss on Sasuke's pulse, feeling it race madly under the thin skin of his swan-like neck. It was true; all those times the boy thought he was hiding his emotions and desires, Itachi had been able to see right through the pretence. Itachi could see everything that lay behind those onyx eyes, shimmering in the light that was occasionally flung through the window on the far side of the room.

'B-but, this is wrong, isn't it?' Sasuke asked quietly, avoiding the older boy's stare that made him feel so awkwardly comfortable in his lap. 'I mean… imagine Tousan and Kaasan would say if they knew that I… knew that I _liked_ you this way --'

'I don't care,' Itachi interrupted smoothly, tilting the child's head as he combed his hand through the raven spikes. He could almost hear Sasuke purr in delight.

'Even if they did find out… it wouldn't matter. I'll take care of you, no matter what happens. No matter what anybody thinks.'

Sasuke's heart tightened in his chest. Those words, they all sounded so true and from the heart. It was almost surreal, but, like every other promise he had made, Sasuke couldn't help but believe it; hoping it was true.

For an unknown reason, he had a feeling it was.

'Otouto?'

'Hm?'

Sasuke's eyes widened as Itachi gripped his chin between deft fingers, and pulled his face up closer to his own. Hot lips landed on his, moulding them swiftly into a kiss. He moaned lightly, lifting his right hand up to grip onto Itachi's shoulder; holding the loose shirt in a knuckle-white grip.

Itachi broke the kiss before his tongue could find entry to that small wet mouth, and he smiled as Sasuke leant back, flustered.

'I'll gladly make your demise, my own,' Itachi whispered hotly, before his lips met with the boy's in another smouldering kiss, pushing the boy firmly on the chest to tower over him on the ground.

Sasuke nodded, whimpering and mewling as the hot tongue that swept over his arm earlier that morning, easily found its way between his parted lips. He barely registered how he was suddenly on his back, with Itachi kissing him passionately from above; kneeling in between his legs. 'Please,' he muttered breathlessly as their lips parted, only to come so quickly back together like magnets. It was all so intense. So hot. Too hot…

'Nii-san, 'niki…please!'

Itachi released the boy's lips with a wet suction noise, lapping at them slightly like a cat at milk. 'What do you want?' He asked against the boy's trembling mouth; hot pants cascading into his open lips.

'Tell me what you want, Sasuke.'

Sasuke swallowed hard. 'I – I don't know… I feel strange, like, all weak inside – '

Itachi's finger being placed gently atop his lips quickly hushed his words. It was a terribly intimate gesture between them, one that felt strangely foreign…but…

'Ssh…Just be still and let me.'

Sasuke nodded slowly, his brow furrowing a little in confusion. 'Let you what?' He asked. He couldn't help but notice the tiny smile that flitted across the elder's lips and eyes; making them sparkle deviously. He leaned in close to his baby-brother; close enough to land a small kiss on the very corner of his mouth.

'Let me _have you,'_ he whispered, as he ran his hands down the boy's tender throat, leading down to where the two branch-thin collarbones met. The skin felt hot and damp with sweat, and Itachi couldn't help but let his fingers follow the curve of the boy's chest down to the collar of his sleep-shirt. He leant forward slightly, pushing the loose shirt down (he _knew_ it was too big for the boy the moment he had seen his mother buying it in the shop…) with the very tips of his fingers. Pushing the clothing down and to one side, exposed more than enough skin for Itachi's hot mouth to land on. His lips moved almost sensually, mouthing the flesh with his tongue and teeth before he reached the boy's nipple, already standing erect from the heaving chest.

Almost curious, he placed his fingers flat over the nub and moved his hand. Sasuke writhed beneath him, whining out indistinguishable words and moans that rippled across the dark room. The floorboards felt oh-so rough against his back as he shifted, trying to get _away_ from that hand on his chest, and yet, wanting nothing more than to be oh so closer.

Itachi breathed deeply, releasing the breath onto the perked skin as he laid his head gently on Sasuke's chest; his mouth barely inches away from the nipple his fingers were teasing. He sighed again, although this time, his lips remained parted. Glancing up at the obsidian eyes of his baby-brother, (noticing how glazed and teary they looked) - he slowly took the dusky flesh into his mouth. He smiled around the nipple as his brother let out a breathy moan, one hand finding its way to Itachi's hair and gripping it tightly, whilst the other scratched almost desperately at the wooden floor.

Sasuke's mind was spinning; twisting and turning and knotting itself into a horrible muddle of emotion and desire. He knew this was wrong. For Itachi to touch him like this. For Itachi to desire him to this extent… For himself to even _want _to experience this. _More of this. _

A hot, hot feeling was tickling his groin, sending rivulets of pleasure up his lower back whenever he rubbed against the ground; feeling his sibling's warm body resting between his legs and on his chest. Indeed, this truly was _feeling_.

Itachi sucked the nub of flesh in his mouth, rolling it with his tongue and gently scraping his teeth across it. 'Otouto,' he breathed, as he let the nipple go in order to look up at his brother's face. A harsh blush stained his porcelain cheeks like scarlet paint.

'You have no idea how beautiful you look,' he muttered, admiring the colour of the boy's cheeks. He smiled as Sasuke replied with a moan (for it was all he _could_ reply with) and reached up to hold his aniki's shoulder.

Sasuke used the leverage to slide his body up slightly, trapping Itachi's legs that were resting in between his own. He didn't notice Itachi smirk at the action, nor he did he even know _why_ his hips were suddenly lurching upwards; searching for a friction that he could only obtain from his brother's legs.

He didn't know why his head hurt so much. Why his neck seemed to ache so horribly, straining to lift his face up to look at his aniki. Why the muscles on his stomach tightened like bad cramp, but without any pain.

Why, through all the confusion; turmoil; love and adoration, did he feel like he was seeing through new eyes?

Itachi breathed harshly as the boy gyrated his groin against his knees, purposely pushing up with one leg and rubbing sensually into the hard erection Sasuke was sporting. The boy whined, feeling his legs wrap around Itachi's back, ankles crossing slightly at the indent of his brother's tailbone.

His whimpers and moans died slowly in his throat as a lithe finger pressed onto his lips. 'Be quiet, Otouto,' Itachi murmured, as he pressed his nail firmly into the bottom lip. Sasuke flinched, but didn't cry out. He'd do anything his aniki asked of him.

Anything.

And then the finger and the cruel nail disappeared, leaving only a hot wet mouth in its place. They kissed for what seemed like eternity; tongues fighting and dancing and just _moving with each other_. So perfectly, like they were made to fit in each other's mouths.

Sasuke's hips couldn't stop moving, rubbing and grinding against Itachi's legs, resting between his sweating thighs. They had a mind of their own; driven purely by arousal and desire for something that was completely unknown.

His small cries were becoming harder and harder for him to suppress, his lips burned against his teeth as he bit them, trying to keep the moans back in his throat.

But he couldn't stop the scream that escaped his mouth as Itachi quickly grabbed his forearm, still oh-so tender from the scalding water, and scraped his teeth across it in one resounding stroke.

He came there and then, hips stilling as his first orgasm tore through his body; racking his chest and making his stomach clench unbearably. The hoarse scream died as it ran throughout Itachi's bedroom, dispersing into nothing as it melted into the darkness.

Itachi reached a strong climax as well; although it wasn't for Sasuke to know. The clothes that Itachi still wore hid any proof from unseeing eyes, and all Sasuke knew of his orgasm was the sudden moan escaping from the wet mouth on his sore arm; vibrating his skin ever so slightly.

The elder Uchiha frowned slightly at the red marks his teeth had left on the blotchy burn mark, and he gave them a soothing flat-tongued lick to apologise. 'I'm sorry,' he murmured, repeating those two words over and over again in a hushed tone. 'Gods, I'm sorry Sasuke – I didn't mean to…'

_Do this to you?_ No, because he _did_ want to. He'd wanted this feeling for far too long now.

_Make you love me? _No, because more than anything, Itachi wanted someone – anyone – to love him. Sasuke's love, admiration and childish adoration were like an aphrodisiac to him.

_Hurt you_?

…No. He wanted Sasuke to feel pain; pain and suffering which was on his own shoulders – and yet, it nearly tore him apart when he forced himself to get angry with the boy, to push him away almost constantly, to poke him on the forehead with the rough instruction to 'go outside and play'.

'_You can go and play in the dirt for all I care.' _

He knew his heart was breaking; cracking and splintering with every order and mission and demand -- but maybe, just maybe, this warm sweaty body underneath him that clung to him so desperately, could help put the pieces back together when all things just… fall apart.

He sighed and leant down to gently ease the child up off the wooden floor. The body was limp and fragile in his arms as he carried him to the bed; brushing the covers aside with one hand so as to place Sasuke underneath them. Silently, he slipped into the bed next to his sibling, holding him tightly as if he were to suddenly vanish.

'Never forget me, Sasuke,' he whispered, placing his face onto the exposed shoulder of the exhausted boy beside him, breathing hotly against the skin. 'No matter what happens, what I do or say… just remember me like this, as we are right here.'

'….okay,' was the quiet reply, as Sasuke shifted under the soft covers – seeking a far better warmth from Itachi's body.

His eyes slowly closed in contentment as Itachi's arms wrapped themselves firmly around his body; holding him and protecting him within the embrace. Many questions flew through his mind; what was that feeling he had when his groin rubbed up against Itachi's legs? Why did his muscles shiver and ache so terribly? Why, deep down in his chest, did his heart hurt?

But despite all the unanswered questions, Sasuke quickly fell asleep from sheer exhaustion. Itachi remained awake for a while, struggling to drop his guard that he had become so accustomed to keeping up. The sharingan burning away in his vision made his eyes water, and he closed them to try and get rid of the itching feeling deep within his sockets.

As Itachi fell into a restless sleep, the moonlight cascading through the window disappeared. Dark, heavy storm clouds covered the moon, and plunged the bedroom into complete darkness.

- - - - - xx - - - - -

'That's it, now, gently pour the tea – keep your elbows in Sasuke! How many times do I have to tell you?'

Sasuke smiled sheepishly, glancing down at his forearm that was pristinely wrapped in white bandage, hiding the numerous red marks beneath it that resembled both burns and teeth-marks.

'Obviously quite a lot,' he replied, laughing as Itachi ran a hand tediously through his raven hair.

Itachi smiled, not bothering to reprimand the child for his cheeky behaviour. He watched as Sasuke carefully put the porcelain teapot down to one side.

'How is it?' He gestured with his free hand towards the bandaged forearm.

'Mm…better,' Sasuke said quietly, avoiding the smouldering gaze that had suddenly evolved in his brother's eyes. His knees ached from pressing against the rough tatami mats as he had to endure another 'practice session' for the ceremony; now only a few days away.

He watched, curious, as his brother gently reached out and lifted the tender arm to his face; kissing the bandaged wrist lightly. A faint blush crossed Sasuke's cheeks, hidden partially behind dark bangs.

'You know I'm sorry, right?' Itachi asked slowly, his voice nothing more than a low murmur in the tatami room. 'Look at me, Sasuke.'

He did. Black eyes met in a heated lock with identical ones. 'I know, ni-san,' he said in reply, tearing his eyes away from that look. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the swirling tendrils of jasmine-scented steam, rising casually from the teapot before him.

'That's…good then,' Itachi stated, before letting Sasuke's arm fall back to his side.

Silence filled the room for a brief moment, before Itachi reasserted his position opposite Sasuke. 'Right,' he said, following his brother's eyes towards the teapot, funnily enough, the source of all the drama over the last night.

'Let's start from the beginning, one more time…'

The jasmine tea continued to swirl up towards the ceiling as Sasuke nodded and reached for the teapot, grasping it in his small hands and lifting it up slightly. Itachi watched him with a careful eye, trying to find a mistake that needed to be picked out – but surprisingly, finding none.

The teapot was tilted oh-so-slightly to one side as a steady flow of boiling water cascaded into a cup. Then another.

As he placed the teapot gently down by his side; rearranging the spoons and tiny little palettes he had used beforehand, he released a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding.

Stilling his fingers from trembling, he gently cupped the china teacup in his hands, and offered it to his brother.

Itachi smiled. 'Well done baby-brother,' he said, as he took the cup in his own hand, meeting Sasuke's gaze as their fingers brushed in passing.

'…well done indeed.'

/Owari/

A/N: Like I said, just a random little oneshot. Review please. xx


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